What Once Was, What Could've Been
by ForestFireSong
Summary: On the battlefield, Holy Rome is comforted by the promise he makes with France to reveal the truth of his "death" to his beloved. On the quiet home front, Austria can't answer the questions Italy has about Holy Rome. When it seems like there's no hope for the two, a certain albino saves Holy Rome... (rated T just because.)
1. Chapter 1

Holy Rome slogged through the battlefield, dragging his sword behind him. Once too large and too heavy, he'd had a sword made especially for a child-nation like himself.

He coughed, the air hazy and nearly un-breathable from cannon smoke. The field was trampled, burned, and bloodied; Holy Rome's corner of it was quiet, but the battle still raged farther off. Every cry floating through the smoky air, every body Holy Rome had to step over to get to the thick of battle made the blond-haired boy's wounds sting more keenly.

Stumbling, Holy Rome wondered if he should just give up. Austria had explained to him before he left that nations could die- and Holy Rome believed it. The fiery pain in his body reminded him of the damage done to his land and his people. And beneath the screams and shots crowding his head, the boy could feel the dull ache indicating in arguing government back in Austria.

But the exact reason he couldn't give up was back at Austria's house as Holy Rome neared the fighting, he drew courage from the mental image of a little girl- as he saw it- with light auburn hair, a white and green maid dress, and a bright, happy expression.

Scowling, Holy Rome concluded that the broom she'd given him was probably destroyed with the rest of camp.

All calm, peaceful thoughts were driven out of Holy Rome's head as he stepped back into the battle. Blood loss made him dizzy, and his knees were shaking, but the blond-haired boy tried to draw out his inner strength as a nation.

There was a sickening cry as Napoleon Bonaparte, France's commander of his army, shot down Holy Rome's Austrian general.

Pain flamed through Holy Rome. His hat tumbled off and he couldn't even bring his hand to grasp it. Black was rimming his vision...

Suddenly a hand clenched a fistful of Holy Rome's hair, lifting him into the air.

_France..._

The boy raised his eyes to the French nation's blue ones, expecting to find them cold and merciless. But he was surprised to find that they held sadness, and...regret?

"Some naions are too young to die," the Frenchman sighed. "But war is inevitable. Je suis desolee, mon cher. I cannot save you."

Holy Rome hung limply in his grip, his sword sliding out of his hand. "I...It...Italia..." he choked out.

"Italy?" France repeated. "Italy..." Darkness began to cloud Holy Rome's vision, but he was aware of being dropped to the ground, and France crouching next to him. "I see you have someone you love, mon cher." Was he getting choked up? "I'm sorry... but I will make sure to tell Italy..." Holy Rome had to be imagining the tears falling onto his face. "Au revoir..."

_I'm sorry Italy... But at least you'll know what happened...Austria and Hungary will take care of you...Be happy, Italy, like always..._

"Maru...marukaite...chik...yuu...Marukaite c-chikyuu, boku..." Italy's singing voice floated through Austria's manor.

Austria closed his eyes and set down his stack of papers. All morning he'd been forced to listen to this, but no longer was he going to make Italy work with that sad, dejected aura.

"Italy!" Austria called. The singing stopped and there was a pattering sound as the little 'girl', as Austria saw it, came into his office.

"Yes, Mr. Austria?" came Italy's small voice.

"You looked depressed today. Sit down."

"No, I'm very cheerful today! Ve~!" Austria watched as 'she' painted on a smile, with much effort. 'She' still didn't sit.

The dark-haired man didn't buy it. "Nein. I refuse to let you work in this condition." He stood. "Come with me, bitte."

Italy trailed behind Austria as the older nation walked to his piano room. Seating himself on the bench in front of the large piano, Austria beckoned for Italy to do the same.

"Is it about Holy Rome?" Austria asked once 'she' was seated and facing him.

"Yes...I miss him... And what if he gets hurt? Or has to eat bad food?" Italy's sincere disgust at the thought would've made Austria smile if it weren't so pitiful.

"Well... Holy Rome is...I'm sure he's being taken care of..." _Mein gott. I should've made Hungary do this. But I initiated it... _"I can't say anything for sure Italy. But I was told the food on the battlefield is good. I mean...wurst is good."

In truth, Austria didn't know how Holy Rome was doing. He would occasionally receive reports of how the battles against France were going, but there was no news on Holy Rome personally.

_He's too young. I wish I could've gone in his place. But I have to handle political affairs...who knows what France could do?_

But looking at Italy, seemingly already perking up with hope, Austria couldn't bring himself to share that with 'her'.

"Just take the day off, ja?" Austria said. The little nation nodded. "Ve, okay!"

Austria began to play the piano for 'her', releasing his frustrations with a song.

_Holy Rome, where are you?_

A dark, gloomy field lay silent apart from the cawing of birds. Blood stained the ground, a color too bright and too taunting.

"Yo, Specs!" called Prussia. The albino held his musket, his hand near to his scabbard. He was the only one on the French army left in victory; the Austrian army had fled, trying to make do with what was left of them.

"Hey, Roddy." Prussia tried again. "Anyone know where I could find one Roderich Edelstein, pansy and personification of the country of Austria?"

With no response, Prussia began to assess the damage, wondering how badly Austria might have lost.

_Badly._ Prussia thought, noticing that many of the fallen soldiers were Austrian. It was so totally un-awesome that Prussia was prepared to hightail it out of there when he saw one body that was different from the rest.

Crouching down, Prussia realized that it was a child's body. Blond hair matted stickily to his forehead, black clothes, a sword and hat laying limply around him.

_Why would a kid...unless...he's a...?_ Prussia stared at the kid. He must've been a nation. There was no other explanation.

"Roddy must be at home, marrying half of Europe." Prussia realized. He looked down at the blond boy. Being a child soldier himself, one might think Prussia would have no sympathy for others like him. But Prussia remembered how un-awesome it was to fight so young, and how scared he had been that the older countries would kill him. He had survived his time with the Knights of the Teutonic Order, but this nation apparently hadn't made it through his battle.

_I should at least move him..._Prussia picked up the boy's body. He was extremely light, Prussia noted._ Not like a dead weight, really..._

As Prussia walked off the battlefield, he felt the child stirring. Jumping with a gasp as awesome and manly as possible, Prussia looked down at the little boy.

Blue eyes fluttered before closing again. Prussia could now hear the short, quick gasps of breath. He could tell that he needed to get the boy home- to Prussia's own, awesome home- quick.

While sprinting off the battlefield, Prussia spoke to the boy, not caring- or knowing- if he could hear him or not. "I guess you'll be staying with the awesome me for awhile. You'll be my little bruder!"

A small noise escaped from the boy's lips. "Frau..." the trailed off again.

Prussia smiled. "If anyone asks, you'll be my awesome, German little brother." He thought for a moment. "So until you wake up and tell me who you are, if you still even know, I'll call you... Ludwig."

**A/N: This idea is a little overdone, but….I'm so proud of this T.T Should I continue?**

..


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to post T.T I'm just lazy, no excuses here. This chapter has a lot of Austria, but we'll be getting to mostly Ludwig and Feli later!**

When Austria had received the reports from his boss and generals alike, he wished that they weren't telling the truth.

According to the news he'd received, the Napoleonic Wars (at least, between France and Austria) were over for the moment. The battle had been won. France had won. However, it was now safe for the two countries to speak.

But the disturbing part came in the letter from Austria's boss, while he, Hungary, and Italy were waiting for Holy Rome to return home. Before it had been them (well, Hungary and Austria; Italy had been contented by the dark-haired aristocrat's words) wondering why Holy Rome was, why a military escort hadn't brought him home. But the letter from Austria's boss clearly outlined just what he and Hungary hadn't wanted to hear.

_"…the personification of our great empire, sent to fight in battle, albeit being in a child's form, was declared missing shortly after the battle. I have been alerted that a searching party was sent out to look, but seeing as the older of the two representatives, you, are still residing at home, and the search party's efforts have thus far been fruitless, the matter has been set aside until the more serious political issues are resolved…"_

It was painfully obvious that Austria's boss found the search for Holy Rome unimportant at the moment.

Austria began to slip into a pessimistic mood, and began pondering over whether or not Holy Rome was truly lost. He himself wasn't sure about the complications of a nation's death, but with Holy Rome being but a child, it was easy to imagine the war had done a number on him.

Still, displaying any of these negative thoughts was absolutely impossible whenever Italy was around. The little 'girl' sauntered around happily, doing her chores and seemingly reassured.

Seeing this was enough to make Austria turn to his last, most desperate resort.

"I'm going to go see France," he announced to Hungary one morning as she came to check up on him in the music room.

Immediately, the green-eyed, tawny-haired, sweetly smiling maiden changed personas. Eyes twitching, and reaching for her frying pan, she said, (in a dangerous voice, it was to be noted): "That pervert?"

"Yes, I know he can be very crude, but this is a last resort. He is the one we fought the war with, after all. If anyone were to know where Holy Rome is, or what happened to him, it'd be France." _He could've been the one to do away with him,_ was the unspoken thought in the room.

"Well, do what you have to," Hungary replied, tightly gripping her frying pan, which had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, but was what she kept on her person at all times. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, thank you." Austria figured one wayward glance at either of them and Hungary would have her frying pan upon France's head. That would make the visit absolutely pointless.

"Just stay here and watch Italy," Austria instructed her before heading for the door. He desperately hoped that France would have something useful to tell, if not only a confirmation of what was already suspected.

**/ / /**

Austria pushed open the doors to France's house. The French nation, of course, had guarded his house heavily, but once the aristocrat had confirmed that he was nation, one who had signed a treaty of peace with France, the guards allowed him in, although still flanking him on either side.

Austria headed towards the room the guards had directed him towards, trying to act indifferent as to the guards on either shoulder. However, just as he was about to knock, the door opened, and the bespectacled nation found him face-to-face with a smirking, red-eyed Prussian.

"Hey there Specs! How ya doing?" Austria was slapped on the shoulder by the albino, as if they were at a bar and not the home of a nation. Although, it was France, and since the guards seemed used to it, Austria could guess Prussia's presence was a normal occurrence.

"My name is Austria or Roderich if you prefer. It is proper to address me as such." Austria replied somewhat coolly, shrugging off Prussia's hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, yeah, Roddy, whatever." Prussia said casually. His smirk was a smile now; however, it was a forced one, as Austria saw it. "I'm just here to see France. We're friends, you know? What are you here for? Going to marry the Frenchie?" There was a definite note of strain there, in the voice that's teasing tone used to seem impenetrable.

"It is politics," Austria responded simply.

Prussia glanced around. "I don't see your boss or anyone."

"It's more personal. It's also none of your business, Preußen." Austria looked up to the red eyes, the ones that froze him in place. "Whatever you say, Specs." Prussia waved his hand, starting off down the hall, waving his hand. "Well, I'm off. The awesome me has stuff to do. Try to survive without my awesomeness charging the air!"

The words to mutter in the Prussian's direction were stuck on Austria's tongue, but that didn't matter because a hand reached out and grabbed the Austrian's wrist. He spun around, just to see that it was France.

The blond-haired nation released his hold, while ushering Austria into the room and talking all the way.

"Roderich!" he exclaimed. "It's been too long, mon ami, with the war interfering."

"Francis," Austria said, hearing the use of his own human name and deciding to return the gesture. "I came mainly to ask a question, I suppose."

"Yes?' France asked, seating himself on a couch in the room- France's office, the aristocrat guessed- and pulling Austria down with him. "Is it concerning the alliance I proposed?"

"Nein…" Austria replied.

"Then what could it be?" France posed the question dramatically, lifting one hand in the air. "Surely it could not be about the war, and the politics surrounding it? That is to be left to our bosses, non?"

"It does somewhat concern the war." Austria told the Frenchman. His hands began tapping his leg, a habit that happened whenever he was nervous. It was rather reminiscent of playing his beloved piano. "I am the personification of Austria, but the empire it is-" _Was? "_-part of had a personification as well. Holy Rome, as we called him, still had the form of a child and was sent to war." Austria's pride didn't allow him to mention that his fighting skills probably didn't even rival Holy Rome's.

"However, he didn't return and was deemed missing by the military. There is no blame in this question, Francis, but you were the one who fought him, so do you have any idea of where he might be?"

Looking over at the Frenchman, Austria was surprised to see France's eyes devoid of their usual twinkle, and instead filled with shock, and….grief? Confusing indeed.

"Francis?" Austria prompted.

France shook his head, as if coming out of a trance, and seemed to be debating over something before speaking.

"I know the boy you are speaking of, and…" France hesitated before speaking again. "How is Ita-chan?"

Austria was somewhat startled by the sudden question, but answered quickly. "Fine. 'She's' fine." _Although I have a feeling 'she'd' be a great deal better or worse if I could get through this conversation._

"That's good," France murmured in reply, but his face looked downcast. "That boy…he was a brave fighter…even so; he was but a child…"

"You don't mean to say…?" Austria wondered if Holy Rome really had died. It was so easy to sit around assuming it with Hungary, but faced with the reality of the possibility, Austria began to think. Could a nation really die?

The only clue to how that might happen was Austria's faint memory of long blond hair, strong hands separating him and a child Prussia when they got too loud, that had one day disappeared.

Austria looked up to see France returning from walking over to his desk, holding something in his hands. A black hat, the one Holy Rome had worn.

Austria's violet eyes met France's blue ones. They looked grief-stricken, which to Austria was strange.

"I went back to the battlefield," France explained. "And this is what I found."

"Did you-… Did you actually-?" Austria was frustrated with his inability to form a proper sentence, but France seemed to understand.

"He seemed gone when I found him," France said. "But…I talked to him, and…I said to him that I'd tell Ita-chan what had taken place…"

Love, Austria realized. Holy Rome must've mentioned love or Italy at some point, or else the country of said emotion wouldn't have made such a promise.

Despite feeling slightly weak from France's near-confirmation (Was a hat adequate proof?) Austria rose to his feet and spoke firmly to France. "Well, let's go then."

"W-what?" France exclaimed.

"Come with me back to Austria, so you can fulfill your promise to Holy Rome."

"Now? So soon?" France asked meekly.

"Yes," Austria replied. "If Holy Rome truly is…lost, then it would be like lying to Italy by not telling 'her'."

"I suppose so…" France said, trailing behind Austria as said nation headed for the door.

Opening the door, Austria felt a slight pang. He had never been incredibly close to Holy Rome, seeing as Hungary usually took care of him and Italy played with him while Austria worked. However, in a family setting, the aristocrat would be something of a father, or so he thought. Besides, he felt that he identified with Holy Rome a bit, not knowing what to do in the face of love. And Austria was fairly sure that Holy Rome had trusted him.

That a left a bitter taste in the bespectacled nation's mouth. _If you're watching, Holy Rome, you'll know that we're trying to set things right, or as right as they can be._

**/ / /**

Darkness.

Darkness surrounded him. It was in front of his eyes, under him, everywhere.

He was sure of darkness.

There wasn't much else the boy could be sure of, though. He knew he was alive (at least, he didn't think he was dead, floating to heaven) and that he was male. The boy knew words and the workings of the world, for the most part.

He also knew that he was a nation. The boy wasn't sure how this was possible, or how that worked, or which nation he was, but he knew that he was a nation.

But everything else, memories, names, things the boy _knew_ he should know like his height and eye color were gone. Brief snatches of memory flew by, a smoking battlefield, a gleaming river, but it escaped before he could focus too much on it. It was infuriating.

But they boy had to figure out how to get out of the darkness first, before he tried to remember. Even thought darkness was something he was sure of, it wasn't something good or reliable, he would imagine.

Struggling through the blackness, just as he was about to break the surface, an image flashed before the boy's eyes.

A happy, innocent smile. A smile connected to a face, connected to a person that the boy knew should have memories, names, and places attached to it. Who-?

Who could-?

And the blue eyes opened.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey! Guess what! This story isn't dead! :D This chapter might not be good, I apologize. I'm a bit out of practice with this story…**

Prussia meandered through the dark halls of his grand house, occasionally stopping to pull open drapes, letting some light in.

"Hey, Luddy, I'm coming in!" he called, making no effort to be quiet.

Then again, Prussia figured he had no need to. It had been almost a week, and the little boy, so-called "Ludwig" or "Luddy" hadn't woken up yet. Prussia had been visiting him at slightly irregular intervals, often bearing food, but the boy had yet to stir.

Although, his body had shown signs of recovering, offering even more proof to Prussia that the boy was a nation. He had obviously suffered severe mental and physical damage. Prussia hadn't quite figured out what nation he was, but he had his suspicions- the embodiment of awesome wasn't stupid. Going to France's house and seeing Austria there had added to his theory.

Thinking of the violet-eyed man made Prussia chuckle. He'd probably berate the albino for his parenting skills, but Prussia was sure that he was the best big brother ever. Even if he _had_ gone to see his boss for long meetings and went drinking with Toni, Prussia found doing all these things justifiable since Ludwig hardly moved whenever he was around.

Prussia pushed open the door to the guestroom that had become Ludwig's room. Even though the albino hadn't been able to do virtually anything for the boy, Ludwig invoked a brotherly feeling in Prussia that made him feel affectionate towards the boy.

Prussia stepped into the room. "So, Ludwig, today-…"

And then, to Prussia's complete shock, a shrill voice rose above his own. "Who _are_ you?"

It was so completely unexpected Prussia jumped, in the most manly and awesome way possible, of course.

At a loss for words, he stared at the now-awake Ludwig. His eyes were blue, a bright, icy blue that displayed his confusion and fear. The fact that they held no childhood innocence or playfulness was understandable but still strange to the albino.

Once Prussia had taken note of that, he also saw how Ludwig was trying to get himself out of bed, and failing.

"Where am I?" the boy continued, exerting his energy farther. "I don't recognize any of this- but then again, I don't recognize much of anything!"

"Ludwig- just calm down." Prussia said, trying to keep in control.

"There's that again! Who's Ludwig?" The boy fixed Prussia with sharp gaze, one so serious it didn't match his small person at all.

"Um, well…" How to explain it… "Listen, kid. Just calm down. You're too weak to get out of bed now. Just let me ask some questions, okay?"

Prussia sat on the edge of the bed. "Alright, first off, I'm Gilbert your awesome older bruder!"

The kid studied him. Blond hair and blue eyes didn't line up with silver hair and red eyes, but he didn't question it.

"I'm awesome and also the personification of the awesome nation of Prussia. I have an awesome pet bird named Gilbird, so if you find him, just take him to me!" Ludwig's head was reeling from the multiple use of the word 'awesome' but he nodded. "So, that leads me to the most important question. Which nation are you? Or, more accurately, who are you? That way I'll know what to call ya!"

The blond-haired boy thought about that for a moment. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of the answer. But just when he thought he had it, it would flit away again. Not knowing his own name frustrated the boy immensely.

Watching the kid struggle, Prussia reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure it out. You can pick a name for me to call you. I just used Ludwig because it, uh…"

"No…I like Ludwig." The boy looked up at Prussia. Somehow, just having the albino's hand on his shoulder calmed him, giving the boy the impression that someone cared for him.

"You do?" Prussia was initially surprised, but he broke into a grin. "Then Ludwig is what I'll call you! Don't worry, you're a nation, I'm sure of it. We just have to figure out which one. But before we get to that, let's go get something to eat."

Food sounded good to Ludwig. Even in his search for answers (or whatever Prussia could provide) it was more practical to at least eat first.

However, looking down at the floor, Ludwig realized it was a long way down from where he was. And to wherever Prussia stored his food…

Prussia seemed to acknowledge that as well. "Okay, forget that. How about I go get food for you and beer for myself?"

"Alcohol?" Ludwig wasn't sure how early it was, but it seemed a little early for drinking.

_Back home…those people…they never drank much…and certainly not so early…_

Ludwig froze as that fragment of memory entered his mind. Who? Who hadn't drank so early back…wherever he had lived before? But it was gone before he could remember it.

"Yeah, alcohol. An awesome substance. Don't be like Roddy now!" Prussia added that last part over his shoulder as he exited the room and set off down the hall.

Roddy…that didn't sound like it was a full name. Ludwig wondered if he should know this name. But at the moment everything was getting to be too much for his mind to take after just waking up.

Instead he fixed his gaze on Prussia, as the man walked out of the room and down the hall.

That was his family now, Ludwig realized. That was his brother. For some reason, Ludwig knew he was no stranger to happy families. But he was fairly sure he'd never had a brother before.

So even if Ludwig had lost his memory, and was living a life of a nation that would probably be full of pain and grief, having a brother, having some "awesome" in his life made Ludwig think it would be livable, bearable, better.

**/ / /**

It was more than a few days travel from France to Austria, and even though the respective nations were more solemn than usual, that didn't stop their ying-yang personalities from clashing with each other and making the journey grate on both of their nerves.

Even so, in the midst of his crabbiness, Austria managed to remind France that Hungary would be there when they returned.

"Ah, the fierce and lovely lady? Do not fear, mon cher, I know my charms will win me over!" France winked handsomely and ridiculously while procuring a rose from nowhere.

"More likely, she'll smash your head in with her frying pan," Austria snapped exasperatedly. "She didn't like you hanging around the house before, but after Maria…" Austria stopped. In the back of the carriage, the atmosphere was tense at Austria's mistake for mentioning his failed marriage with France and revolution that followed.

France sighed. "Even if you and Hungary don't understand amour, I will not take the time to teach you. I am here to speak to Italy, as you desire."

Austria nodded. He wondered how Italy would take the news. It was close to physical pain imagining how devastated "she" would be, since "she" cried over spilled pasta.

The carriage halted, signaling to the two nations that they were at Austria's mansion.

Opening the door for himself and France, the violet-eyed man had time to do little more than thank the carriage driver when Hungary started running towards them.

"Mr. Austria! You're ba…" suddenly a frying pan materialized in Hungary's hands. Her venomous stare was aimed at France. "What is he doing here?"

France held up his hands, and then lowering them to drag Austria over in what was to Hungary's eyes a crude manner. "I am a guest…please protect me, Autriche…"

"Yes, I invited France here." Austria tried to step out of France's grasp and being used a human shield.

Hungary lowered her frying pan then, but still didn't hesitate to look at France suspiciously as she approached the two. "Why did you bring him back with you? What did you find out about Holy Rome?"  
Both Austria and France fell silent, neither meeting Hungary's eyes.

"You mean…Holy Rome…" Hungary realized that the silence revealed an awful truth. _"Ó, Uram ...a gyerek..."_

That silence made it the absolute best and worst time for Italy to come running out of the house over to them.

"I heard a commotion- oh! Mr. Austria! You're back! And- France-niichan? What are you doing here?"

"Ah…Ita-chan…" France tried to regain some of the usual energy he had in his voice, but it just came out sounding empty.

"Ve~What's the matter?" Italy asked, taking notice of the grim looks on the adults' face. "France-nii, you sound so sad! And the day is nice and everyone is together, so why does everyone look so upset?"

"It's…nothing." Austria eventually answered. "France will be staying the night." There was a finality in his voice that was unnecessary, since nobody had the words to argue.

**/ / /**

Italy's feet pattered down on the floor as he walked down the dark halls. He didn't like walking around Mr. Austria's house at nighttime, since it was so big and everything was so dark and scary, but this time he was determined to do it.

Finally reaching his destination, Italy reached up, knocking before pushing open the door.

"Italy?" France looked up from where he had been sitting on the guest bed.

"Oh, France! You're still awake! May I come in?"

"Of course." France replied. Italy just looked so adorable, France couldn't refuse him. In the seriousness of the situation, it was all big-brotherly, but he still agreed with his boss in Italy making excellent French territory.

"What is it, Italy?" France asked, looking down at the small nation. Italy thought for a moment, before speaking.

"Mr. Austria and Miss Hungary are acting so weird tonight! They won't tell me anything! Miss Hungary is usually so cheerful but tonight she seems depressed, and even though Mr. Austria hardly ever smiles, but when he does it's real. But not tonight…"

France winced inwardly. So even Italy noticed.

"I wish Holy Rome were here…"

That pierced France's heart, enough where he decided he had to do something. On a spur-of-the-moment decision, he got down on his knees on the floor as to be eye-to-eye with Italy.

"Italy, mon cher, do you know what love is?"

"Yes…I think so…" Italy looked deep in thought. "But I don't think I can put it in words…"

"Oh, non, love doesn't not have to be expressed through words." France shook his head knowledgeably- he was the country of love, after all! "But, Italy, do you love someone?"

Italy brightened. "Oh yes! I love fratello, and you, France nii-chan, and Mr. Austria and Miss Hungary and Grandpa Rome…but there is one person…one person who I don't see any longer…but that I know it's love…"

Italy's childish, innocent description of love was enough to elicit a smile from France, even if it was a sad one. "This one person, who you don't see any longer?"

Italy nodded sadly. "I get worried sometimes…but I know that he wouldn't leave me forever!"

That was nearly enough for France to exclaim that Holy Rome was _dead_, and forever would make no difference, when he was struck with a sudden thought. A ray of hope, maybe.

"If it was love, he wouldn't." France agreed. "Listen to me, Ita-chan. Love is worth waiting for- love is about waiting. Whether for a man or a woman, for a night or for hundreds of years, you have to keep believing until you know for sure otherwise. It is a test of love." Screw the cheesiness of his speech. Italy would know. He would experience it, and these words would ring true someday.

"That's what I said! I said I'd be waiting for him to come home," Italy smiled. "France, do you think that he'll come back to me?"

With a new conviction France didn't have before, he rubbed Italy's head. "Yes, Italy. I think he will."


	4. Chapter 4

Italy carefully stowed away his broom in a hall closet, along with his mop. Shutting the door, he hoisted up his bucket and began to haul it out to the courtyard, where he could dump out of the soapy water.

Even though the auburn-haired boy huffed a little at lifting the heavy bucket, it didn't affect him as much as it would have a little while ago. With all the extra chores lately, he had grown considerably stronger.

Italy pouted a little bit as he thought of all the chores he'd had to do lately. Now that it was just him, Mr. Austria, and Miss Hungary in Mr. Austria's big and now empty house, they'd all had to divide the chores amongst themselves and work harder than usual. Admittedly, it was funny to see Mr. Austria do the same tasks as the rest of them, but with all his other jobs Italy didn't have time to laugh about it with Miss Hungary.

The last really fun event Italy could remember was Big Brother France coming over. And that had been months- had it been a year, or two, maybe more?-ago.

Italy thought back to France's words, as he did every day, on waiting for Holy Rome, and waiting for love. He dumped out the water, watching it slowly trickle down and darken the stone. Then he returned the bucket to its proper place after exiting the sunny courtyard. Italy beamed to himself. Now that he was done with his chores-he'd had a miraculously short list that day- he could go to his special place.

Before long, Italy had made his way down the halls of the mansion, and, deep into it, opened the door to an unused room.

The race to the room on the far side of the house from where he had been left Italy slightly breathless despite his prowess in running. ("Almost too good," France-nii had said. "You make me proud!") It was more due to how tight his mint green maid dress was b

becoming. At first Italy had been afraid it was from eating too much pasta (or wurst, as was customary) but then realized he was simply growing out of it. All but the front part of the dress had been filled in, and Italy wished that he could procure some different, better-fitting clothes.

As the auburn-haired boy set up the canvas to paint upon- as he always did in his "special room", which was filled with art supplies- he also noticed that his singing voice was beginning to sound different.

_I guess I'm just changing, _Italy thought as he began to paint, swirling blue and gold across the canvas. _But I hope not too much. I wonder about Holy Rome…is he growing out of his clothes, too? The black coat was so cute…_

Italy's subconscious took over painting as his thoughts wandered. _I hope wherever Holy Rome is there's someone to mend his clothes for him so they'll fit. And to give him pasta! Even though he didn't seem to like it that much._

Black was splashed upon the canvas. "But why did Holy Rome leave?" Italy whimpered aloud suddenly. "I know it was for war, but where is he now? Why hasn't he come back to us yet?" Italy knew these were all unanswerable questions at the moment, or he probably would've known where Holy Rome was if they weren't. But he couldn't stop them from flooding in and voicing themselves.

Brown found its way onto Italy's paintbrush as the small nation continued whispering to himself.

"Does he want to come back? We had so much fun together, even if he got really red sometimes. He's got to be somewhere. I have to remember what France said…I have to keep waiting…and waiting…"

Italy hadn't been aware that he was shedding tears until one slid from his cheek onto the canvas, blurring and mixing with several colors as it ran down.

The auburn-haired boy stared at the painting. Done quickly yet beautifully, it showed a blue-eyed, blond-haired boy dressed in black, holding a broom. He sat in the green grass under a blue sky dotted with thick, fluffy white clouds.

Italy wanted to wail, but he also didn't want to disturb Mr. Austria or Miss Hungary. The heavy sleep he got at night was only a result of the energy exerted from keeping a cheerful face on all day.

But the small nation did allow himself a murmur that he wanted to voice as a call: "Holy Rome, please come back to me…!"

Picking up the painting from the easel, Italy carried it over and gently placed it down among all the other ones he had painted.

And continued with the endless waiting.

**/ / /**

Ludwig turned over in bed. He stared at the looming, dark walls. The curtains in his room were drawn, but he was sure that it was late at night.

Prussia had gone out to get a drink, finally deeming Ludwig well enough to leave home alone. It had taken them months, maybe even a year, to reach this point, but here they were, and Ludwig couldn't even get to sleep.

It wasn't as if sleep came easily when Prussia was home, either. It was more how the albino would sit next to Ludwig until he finally got to sleep.

Ludwig still didn't know what country he was. He had prayed every night for memories to resurface in his dreams, but to no avail.

During the day, Prussia had taken to showing him the inside and the outside of his grand house, and talking to him about the other nations, his much-beloved military, or the like. Prussia's presence was overbearing, but brotherly too, and one that made Ludwig feel safe.

Ludwig shifted under the thick covers. Prussia also drank a lot of beer, as shown by him going out that night, and wasn't exactly neat. Almost instinctively, and much to the albino's amusement, he had taken to cleaning Prussia's house. That and his "awesomely serious" nature were apparently hilarious.

Ludwig squeezed his eyes shut. He'd counted sheep, stars, Gilbirds- now what?

Suddenly, Ludwig heard something. A loud slamming of the door followed by a crashing. The door-! Had Prussia remembered to lock the door?

All sorts of images whirled through Ludwig's head-ones that would make someone deem him considerably paranoid. Brushing aside the bangs that had fallen over his forehead, Ludwig stepped down to the floor from his bed.

In a pair of Prussia's too big clothes that served as pajamas, his feet stepping quietly on the cold wood floor, Ludwig crept down the hall to the entrance hall, where he'd heard the noise. He desperately wished that he had a candle, but as it turned out, the person in the hall had already acquired and lit one.

Upon seeing the person's face illuminated by the candle's light, Ludwig had been expecting burglars or murderers. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of Prussia.

Or, more accurately, Prussia with a bloody nose dripping onto his clothes. A bruise was forming on his jaw and above his eye. Ludwig could see similar stains on his clothes from where the candle's light could reach.

"Gilbert?"

"Oh, sorry to wake you, Luddy. I just got into a little fight, sorry…you should go back to sleep…Ludwig?"

Ludwig stared at Prussia. He was injured. Ludwig knew that. So that meant that the blond-haired boy should go get bandages. But all he could do was stare, frozen.

Prussia got into a fight. A fight? With guns? With swords? No, he hadn't been anywhere where anybody was carrying those on them. And Prussia hadn't been shot. But he was still hurt! He was bleeding? What if his country was hurt? Ludwig didn't realize till that moment that he was panicking without doing anything, and shaking.

"Ludwig." Prussia's voice was surprisingly controlled. "Listen, kid, just go back to bed. Don't worry…" there was audible Germany cursing, followed by, "I didn't realize that this would trigger anything…"

Ludwig shook himself. Well, mentally, anyway. "Gilbert, are you okay?" he demanded.

"Fine. Perfectly fine." Gilbert responded. Bloody nose and all, he pulled Ludwig into a hug, which he welcomed. Prussia smelled like the bar, but he also had a scent Ludwig was used to after getting so many hugs from the overly affectionate albino. Ludwig had never felt safer than he had at that moment.

"There's nothing to be scared about…" Prussia said. "Honestly, you should see me when Francis and Antonio are there as well…"

"That was irresponsible." Ludwig told him after being released. "You don't want to get banned again, do you?" Not only by the bar, but by his boss from alcohol as well.

"I'd like to see them try to stop the awesome me," Prussia scoffed. "So I'll finish up here. Dry your tears and go back to bed, okay?"

Ludwig felt his face, only to bring back the palm of his hand damp and discover that Prussia was right. He frowned slightly. Crying was weakness, wasn't it?  
Prussia nudged him gently. "Come on."

Ludwig nodded and turned around, setting off down the hall. He'd never had a brother before, at least, he didn't think so, but now that he did have one, he didn't want anything to happen to him. Ludwig felt like he had lost what was most precious to him along with his memories, and he was going to guarantee that didn't happen again.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This and the next chapter are going to be pretty short. (And crap, this is so cheesy.) I also apologize for any OOCness on Italy's part- he's maturing, but he's still Italy. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

Italy stared at the person in the mirror. He turned around once, then twice. So did his reflection. It was odd not to have a skirt swishing around his legs as he turned around, instead the stiff legs of the plants.

Was that person in the mirror really him? Italy spun and faced the mirror again. Auburn hair, a strange curl sticking out. There were amber eyes looking back at him. Even though he grown quite a bit in height, everything was recognizable. Italy was Italy, and not much had changed.

Except for the fact everything had. For the first time in awhile, how many years Italy did not know, the Southern European country wasn't wearing his mint-green maid dress. Earlier that morning, upon sweeping and singing as per the usual, Italy had found that his voice had changed.

It had been a happy occasion initially; he had been excited and Miss Hungary and Mr. Austria, who had heard it as well, appeared enthusiastic too. Well, at least Hungary had. She had danced around with him, reveling in how grown up he was. Austria had seemed very surprised to hear Italy's voice change.

Then he had told Italy he was going to buy him some new clothes- ones suited for his gender. Of course, as both Italy and Hungary had predicted, Austria had been much too frugal for that and had ended up giving Italy several of his clothes. Italy felt the fabric, standing in front of the mirror. The whole outfit was heavily patched, so it might have been hundreds of years old and just endured for so long in Austria's willingness not to throw away any clothes.

Italy glanced back at the mirror. That was definitely him. Italy Veneziano, Northern Italy, Feliciano Vargas.

"You look so cute, Italy!" Italy turned to see Miss Hungary and Mr. Austria standing in the doorway to his room. Hungary's green eyes were strangely bright. "But very handsome too, of course."

"Yes, you do look very handsome." Austria said. There was no stiffness to his voice, just a strange kind of nostalgia. Watching both him and Hungary look like his parents, or at least very proud older siblings, Italy acknowledged just how much of a family they were. They were nations, doomed to immortality, and this family probably wouldn't last, but Italy made sure to remember this moment while he could. Would he and this brother he'd never met have moments like these? The Italian nation could remember them with Grandpa Rome.

But there was still one of their family missing. Even after he had been gone so long, Italy still remembered Holy Rome's place within their family. Nowadays, as his country grew steadily more important and involved, and as Italy couldn't let Austria and Hungary handle all his country's affairs for him as he was growing up, Italy was trying not to think about Holy Rome. It rarely worked.

Did Miss Hungary love Mr. Austria? Italy knew that Mr. Austria loved her, although it may not have been the way that she wanted. After so many marriages it would be hard to find and keep your true love, or to believe in love at all. But they were, as Italy had thought before, nations. It took someone like him to keep waiting and believing. But that was because Italy knew the love he had was special, not to be given away or forgotten, but to last however long he was willing to hold it up.

But Italy also knew that he was the personification of Northern Italy, a fate he could not escape. He had duties and responsibilities. He would be going to a World Meeting, and he would at least have to try to make it through without falling asleep or going for a gelato break. He wanted Holy Rome back more than anything in the world, but if that was impossible, then he would have to survive through it. As a nation and a person, Italy knew he couldn't afford to spend time lamenting over what once was.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: It feels like it's been so long!**

Ludwig glanced down at the golden liquid in the glass Prussia was offering him. "No. Not today."

The albino pouted, withdrawing the glass of alcohol. "You're too stiff, Luddy! Seriously, not even on your special day, you still won't try this awesome beer?"

"How old do I look to you, Prussia?" Ludwig asked. They were sitting at either end of Prussia's long dining room table, and Ludwig had been served a glass of water by the maids that were at the house. It wasn't the same house the two of them had lived in when Prussia first found Ludwig- brand new, actually- but many things, such as the table, had made the transition.

"You look about…15." Prussia said, guessing. Ludwig had grown pretty fast, the reason why having been revealed and the albino was fully prepared for his adopted brother to surpass him in height any given day.

"Exactly. Fifteen hardly seems the appropriate age to be having any of that," Ludwig nodded at Prussia's glass. The older of the two merely rolled his eyes.

"I really need to teach you how to have a good time, Ludwig. Just wait until you come to the meeting! It'll be a lot of fun there,"

"I intend of listening at the meeting," Ludwig replied. "From what you tell me, they don't happen very often, so I'll take the advantage of learning how to be a good nation while I can."

"Are you saying I'm not a good role model?" Prussia mocked indignation. Truthfully, on the inside he was proud. Even though Ludwig was impossibly uptight, Prussia knew he would make a good personification of a nation. He had grown a lot from the boy Prussia had rescued off of the battlefield…

The year was 1871. The German states had all been unified under Prussia- they were Germany. That year was when Prussia and Ludwig had come to the conclusion as to which nation Ludwig represented. Now Otto von Bismarck had two personifications to contend with. Prussia laughed at how much fun that would be- for him, at least.

Ludwig, meanwhile, was, in a way, looking forward to working as a nation. Prussia had fallen asleep so often, or enlisted Ludwig's help in tedious tasks, so regularly that Ludwig had a good understanding of how the nation worked and what would be required of him.

And from all the stories Prussia had told him, the blond boy was eagerly (and anxiously) awaiting the meeting that was coming up ahead. Very rarely could the warring nations get together and speak about world events, so he decided to seize the chance of meeting and forming good relationships with the other nations. So far, Prussia was the only other nation he'd had interaction with.

Or so Ludwig remembered. At least, most of the time. Occasionally he'd hear a name or phrase and be struck with a strange feeling of familiarity, which would fade as quickly as it came. Ludwig tried to remember anything beyond his time spent with Prussia, but he drew a blank. He didn't even know if there was anything before that.

"Ludwig." Prussia's voice snapped the blond nation out of his thinking. "Listen, here's some more stuff on the other nations. Look out for Russia, he's a little…crazy. Well, more than that, he's sadistic and his two sisters…"

Prussia's voice washed over Ludwig was he continued to speak, but what really shook the younger of the two out of his thoughts was the use of "Ludwig". That was what he had been called, for so long, but he knew that he was also Germany. Even though they weren't too different and overlapped, it was still a reminder to Ludwig at how he was living as a nation and a human. He had a whole nation behind him, wars to fight, an economy to contend to. He had bosses to follow and many, many German people to take care off. Ludwig had various different loyalties, as was the life of a nation.

All the other nations had to go through it, so it was nothing special, except for the fact that it would require Ludwig's focus, heart, and mind. Those strange sensations, the ones that made Ludwig think something was missing, were unimportant. Ludwig was determined to be devoted and focused.

It hurt, a bit, thinking like this. Ludwig brushed it off. Even if he was turning away a part of himself, he had to carry on. He couldn't live a life constantly wondering about what could've been.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Wow, it's been a long time, hasn't it? Sorry about that DX I haven't done this yet (shameful) so here I'll thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. It makes me so happy when I see one of those in my inbox :D **

**I hope this chapter isn't too tedious!**

Ludwig shifted nervously in the carriage he was riding with Prussia. He was wearing a vaguely uncomfortable outfit, much more dressed up then he usually was, even though he took care to dress properly each day. In fact, it was much more surprising to see Prussia dressed as he was that day. He had made it a point to complain to Ludwig about what a pain it was to wear the latest fashions to these meetings, and it was only France, so what did it matter?

France, that was where the meeting was being held, and where Ludwig and Prussia were traveling to in the carriage that very moment. They were bumping west towards to France. That defeated the purpose of the clothes somewhat, because by the time they reached their destination, the brothers would've had to change at least several times. Ludwig wondered if Prussia had planned that.

He had gone through bouts of nervousness and curiosity about the meeting. He had heard stories about nearly every nation there, well, with the exceptions of ones that Prussia deemed "not until you're older", which Ludwig had noticed usually concerned France and Spain.

Maybe there were more things to worry about at the meeting.

**/ / /**

"Miss Hungary, I saw a horse!" Italy called, from where he was peeking from the carriage's window.

Hungary smiled. "Italy, our carriage is being pulled by horses. Is seeing one that amazing?" She already knew the answer, but asked the auburn-haired boy anyway.

"Yes! This one was a wild one," Italy bounced up and down enthusiastically. It was understandable behavior- Austria's house had been a little outside of Vienna, but even so, Italy had, for several decades, lived near to the city. He also hadn't traveled long distances for quite some time, so Hungary was pleased and relieved he took such joy in watching the scenery.

It was also bittersweet, though. This meeting would be the first that Italy would go to, and, so Hungary thought, the last that they would ever go to together. Italy was his own country and could very well move out and join his brother in their own house, if the two of them were willing to.

Watching Italy, Hungary wondered what he thought about that. He blabbered on how he hadn't seen his fratello in so long, and how nice it would be to see him at the meeting, but Hungary also wasn't aware if he actually wanted to share a house with Romano. She had heard rumors that he was quite fiery-tempered, and as it was no secret that Italy had been bullied by many countries when he was younger, Romano could've been among them.

On her other side, Hungary looked at Austria. He was staring out the window of the carriage, just like Italy, but unlike him, had barely said a word the entire time. It seemed mysterious, but, knowing the man so well, Hungary could guess what he was thinking about. Some albino that needed a hit with a frying pan, she was sure.

Hungary settled against the cushions of the carriage, closing her eyes and planning on sleeping for the rest of the rattling ride westward. Austria's silence to her left spoke just as loud as Italy's speaking to her right, but by then, she had grown accustomed to it.

**/ / /**

Ludwig stood behind Prussia as he knocked on the enormous doors of France's house- or mansion. Ludwig had always considered his older brother's home to be majestic, but it was humble in comparison to the one he was standing before at the moment.

The blond-haired boy had grown sick of traveling by the time they reached Paris, but upon glancing at the streets of Paris, he had been relieved to have a carriage to travel in when they went to France's house for the meeting.

The doors opened, and Ludwig and Prussia were greeted by a young, pretty maid. "Hello," she said pleasantly. "I'm assuming that you're here to see Francis like all the rest?" she spoke in French, and Ludwig could barely keep up. Prussia, apparently, had no problem with it, and nodded and continued to chat with her as she led them to the dining room where everyone was assembled. He did stop to whisper to Ludwig, "All you have to do is look at the maids to figure out that we're at Francis's house."

As they walked, Ludwig looked at the house. Most of the paintings at Prussia's house depicted military victories or Prussia's various bosses; France's walls were covered with paintings of beautiful landscapes and the like. Those two differences seemed to indicate two very different personalities, but considering how close Prussia and France seemed to be, Ludwig figured there had to be something that they bonded over.

"Here's the dining room, sir." The maid said politely, stopping outside of another room. Prussia thanked her as she walked off, and then pushed open the door.

Upon first glance, Ludwig's eyes widened. There were many nations in the dining room before them, many more than he had expected. His stomach began to churn, but then he looked closer. There weren't nearly as many people as there were back in Berlin, not even close, and that was reassuring. It would've been somewhat frightening if there had been as many nations as that.

Most of the nations walking around looked up when Prussia came in, and then resumed whatever they were doing. Some of them called out greetings; others shot him glances of disgust. Prussia paid no mind to this and headed straight over to a dark-haired man who had called out "Gilbert" and was grinning cheerfully at them.

"Antonio, how are ya doing?" Prussia asked, hitting the man on the shoulder.

"Very good, thanks!" Antonio responded. "Well, I mean, I've been a little lonely since Romano moved out…but it's good that Roma's growing up, and he'll be with his brother soon enough, but I'll miss him!"

"Oh, come on!" Prussia rolled his eyes. "Now that you're not a doting parent anymore, we can actually have some fun!"

"Not from what I see," Antonio leaned around Prussia until he was facing Ludwig, which surprised him a bit. "You're the parent now, Gilbert!"

"I prefer the term 'awesome big brother'-he doesn't exactly need parenting." Prussia replied casually, while pulling Ludwig in front of him. "But yeah, this is Ludwig, or the representation of Germany. Luddy, meet Antonio, or Spain, as you can think of him."

"Um…hello…" Ludwig held out his hand to shake. In response, Antonio grasped it and shook it enthusiastically.

"Hola! You look really young to be a country, but you also look like a good guy, so I think you'll be fine. After all, you've been living with Gilbert for long enough, so…"

Ludwig's hand was released as Antonio continued to talk. His green eyes were bright and friendly, as were his words, but for some reason Ludwig felt like he could snap if you really drove him to it, and that he was not a nation to be messed with. Then he wondered if it was normal for him to be noticing things like that- it was only natural for nations to have something off about them after so many years of fighting, he supposed.

"Gilbert, Antonio!" a new voice rang out, and the three of them turned around to see another man making his way towards them. He had longish, wavy blond hair and blue eyes, and was dressed elegantly. For just a second, Ludwig felt fear slash through him, his blood running cold. Then it disappeared, and he would've had no idea who the blond was if Gilbert hadn't exclaimed "Francis!"

Francis, or simply France, approached them, and the same thing that had happened with Antonio occurred. Ludwig was introduced to France, and still felt vaguely uncomfortable from his flash of fear upon sight. He strived to be polite nonetheless.

Glancing around the meeting room, Ludwig could tell that most of the nations were getting reacquainted instead of actually discussing news, which made sense. He looked back to France, Spain, and Prussia, who were deep in conversation, and wondered if he could go around by himself. Would it be dangerous…?

He phrased the question to Prussia, who jerked himself out of the discussion to consider it. "No one will attack you…probably." He told Ludwig thoughtfully. "Just go around and don't tick anyone off, and if you do, I'm over here."

Ludwig nodded, and walked away from the trio. But once he was away from his brother, he felt out of place and unsure of where to go. Did he go and speak to anyone, or should he wait to be spoken to? That would just be one of the many things he would have to figure out for himself.

**/ / /**

"Do you see Romano yet?" Italy asked Hungary, clinging to her hand. She shook her head, responding patiently, "Not yet,"

During most world meetings, there were so few nations there that she could have easily determined whether or not Romano was there. However, this meeting was a strange one, since there were many more nations there than usual. Since there were so many nations there, Hungary told Italy about some of them after they had stopped to talk. (Austria had long since been held up talking, or maybe arguing, with Switzerland, so they had left him to it.)

"That was America," Hungary told Italy after they had finished greeting the blond-haired nation. "He's usually much more cheerful than that, but he had a civil war, and is still trying to recover."

"Oh, really?" Italy said, interested. He wondered what would happen if he had a civil war- would he and his brother fight each other?

"Believe me, you'll miss his seriousness," Hungary assured Italy. She remembered America before the war, in the one meeting that he attended before gaining schizophrenic tendencies. He'd had crazy ideas and seemed desperate to prove himself. Now he was quieter, although not for long.

"Miss Hungary…" Italy grabbed onto Hungary's arm. "That guy over there is kind of freaking me out…" Hungary looked over to where Italy was indicating. Immediately, she wished she had her frying pan.

"That's Russia," she said, eyeing the violet-eyed man. "He's a big country up north, and, well, you have a good reason to be afraid of him. Don't worry, though, I think his sisters came with him to this meeting, so he'll be preoccupied."

Italy nodded. Miss Hungary was looking around, presumably for people that she knew, so Italy did the same, although he was really just looking for his brother. What would be look like? Italy assumed that he would look like himself, or Grandpa Rome at least, but he had no way of knowing for sure.

Scanning the various nations, Italy suddenly noticed one in particular. He had blond hair, a little long in the front, but the rest neatly styled. He had blue eyes that looked around awkwardly, and a rather young appearance. Italy's breath caught in his throat. He looked very, very similar to…was the waiting over? Was it too much to hope for?

Italy looked to Miss Hungary, to see if she had noticed the boy as well, but saw she was talking to a timid looking young man with long brown hair. When he glanced back, the boy was still there, still looking alone.

The auburn-haired boy wasn't sure who that was there. But he hoped for a certain person, one he had been trying not to think about for a very long time.

And so, without any regrets, he ran straight up to the lonely-looking boy and hugged him just as he had always done.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Referring to Germany as Ludwig was mainly for convenience, what with the HRE=Germany thing…but one of these chapters (not this one) I'll eventually start calling him that.**

**This chapter is long…and has something like PruAus. There's your warning :D**

Ludwig had still been wandering around the meeting room, unsure of who talk to, when it happened.

Leading up to that, he'd communicated with two nations. While he had been looking around, he had spotted two nations sitting and conversing. One of them was blond with green eyes and distinctive eyebrows, noted as such because of their size in thickness. The other man (and Ludwig was under the assumption that he was a man; he'd have to ask Prussia later) was quite different looking from what Ludwig was used to seeing. He had long, silky black hair tied back in a ponytail, amber eyes, and a skin tone and facial features unlike what Ludwig saw in Europe. He concluded that that man must be one of the Asian nations.

Anyway, as he walked by, both nations had raised their eyes to look at him with fleeting interest, but while the Asian man's was more of curiosity, the other man had regarded him with acute attentiveness, before both of them cordially nodded and returned to what they had been discussing before.

It had been not long after that that he had been hugged by the person who was currently on top of him, both of them having been knocked by the force of the hug, which had been more of a tackle.

Ludwig raised his eyes to the person above him (a nation, he assumed). He looked not much older than himself, if not younger. He was small with short auburn colored hair and a curl sticking out of the left side of his head that piqued Ludwig's attention. He had amber eyes that looked down at him with something like a happy glow, and a wide, excited smile spread across his face. He was wearing rather old-fashioned clothes that seemed a little big for him.

When Ludwig saw him, for a moment, he felt a strange emotion as he had when he had first seen France. However, unlike with the blond nation, this time it wasn't fear. Instead it was good feeling, albeit one that made his face heat up. But as with France, the feeling was there for a second, and then passed, and Ludwig looked back up at the nation on top of him unknowingly, having never seen him before.

However, the boy seemed to think the opposite, because he looked down at Ludwig with an almost expectant look, as though waiting for him to say something.

The heat returned to Ludwig's cheeks, partially because of the awkward position they were in, but also because the nations around them had fallen silent, apparently staring at them because of the commotion they had caused.

Then a voice rang out, "Move along, nothing to see here!" It then directed itself towards the two of them.

"Ita-chan!" said a woman standing above them. She was quite pretty, with long, wavy light brown hair and striking green eyes, and a flower tucked behind one ear. However, her face and tone were rather commanding. She leaned down and pulled the boy- Ita-chan, apparently- off of Ludwig.

Even after she had done that, though, Ludwig remained on the ground, looking up at the two. The boy was turning to the woman, looking disappointed, before casting a look back at him hopefully. For some reason Ludwig just kept staring at him.

Then he saw something in front of him, and looked up to see the woman offering a hand to him.

Ludwig reached up and took her hand, standing up and brushing his clothes off, trying to shake off his embarrassment. Most of the nations around them had resumed doing whatever it was they had been doing before, and Prussia, still with his friends, appeared not to notice.

"Sorry for doing that," Ludwig looked over to the boy who had spoken. He had an accent, as Ludwig had expected most of the countries there to have, and Ludwig rather liked this one. "But…" he trailed off a bit, leading the woman to talk.

"What's your name?" she asked with a friendly demeanor. "I'm Elizabeta Héderváry, although I'm also the personification of the nation of Hungary."

"And I'm Italy Veneziano, North Italy!" said nation spoke up beside her, not giving a human name and still giving Ludwig such a hopeful look he felt uncomfortable, not knowing what Italy was expecting of him.

"Ja…I'm Ludwig, or Germany. Pleased to meet you." Ludwig nodded to them both. His feelings for the strange little personification of Italy were as odd as he was, and as for Hungary, despite how kind she seemed, just as with Spain, he felt a strange apprehension towards her, or at least the notion of her should she get angry. He remembered mention of her several times in Prussia's stories.

As if Ludwig's very thought of his surrogate older brother brought him into Hungary's mind as well, she said, in a rather scary, sweet tone, "Oh, so you're Prussia's brother, aren't you?"

"Yes…" Ludwig replied, wondering what caused the change in personality. Hungary now looked rather frightening, her gaze wandering over the crowds of nations until she fixed on one spot. Ludwig turned to see and saw Prussia poking a dark-haired, bespectacled man's cheek while said man looked over at him irritably.

"Well, I'm going to go over to talk to him, so I'll just be over there, okay, Ita-chan?" Hungary smiled at both of them but took off before either of them could answer. Prussia seemed to sense her coming towards him because he abruptly stopped and turned around as if to escape. The dark haired man merely watched the two, arms folded.

Ludwig looked around and was surprised to see that Italy was now right next to him. He was staring up at the slightly taller nation, and Ludwig felt vaguely unnerved. "Um…so you're the north half of your country, ja? Where is the south?" he tried to make conversation and ease the tension that he wasn't even sure Italy was feeling.

"Eh…?" Italy said. Then realizing Ludwig had asked him a question, he nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I'm the North, and my fratello, Romano, is the South!" he gestured to the crowd. "He's somewhere around here, do you want to help me find him?"

_To speak nothing of randomly hugging me on our first encounter…or is it…well, I suppose I brought this upon myself, and it's good to meet new nations…_ Ludwig thought exasperatedly. He was about to agree when Italy spoke up again.

"Before that…um….you remind me of someone I've seen before. So have we met before?" Ludwig glanced back over at Italy, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet. For some reason Ludwig felt bad about denying it, but it was true.

"No, I'm sorry. I've never met you before in my life."

"But Hol- I mean, ve, I guess not." Italy looked absolutely crushed, to the point where Ludwig felt even more uncomfortable because he had no idea how to comfort him, but suddenly the auburn-haired nation pulled a quick smile on his face. "I must've mistaken you for someone else! That's okay, though."

Ludwig stared at him, not sure what to make of how swiftly he had changed his completely, almost sorrowfully disappointed face to that of a bright smile. Which emotion was he really feeling-which one was real? Both? Before he could be beginning to work it out, Italy grabbed his arm.

He nearly jumped at the sudden physical contact, (although getting bowled over by Italy was more of a surprise than this was) saw that it was only Italy, and still had a hard time relaxing, not to mention his face was still hot even though they were both upright and no one was paying any attention to them.

Despite having a cheerful smile on his face, something about Italy seemed a little subdued compared to first meeting him. Still, Ludwig chose to ignore that because Italy seemed quite upbeat as he searched the crowd for his brother, still holding Ludwig's arm.

Since Ludwig had no idea what Italy's 'fratello' looked like, (him, presumably) he couldn't aid much in the search for him. However, as it turned out, he had no need to, because after only a few minutes, he heard a loud "Bonjour!"

"…can get really mad sometimes, but…oh, and France-nii is so nice and used to visit, but not so much lately and…" Italy, who had been chattering incessantly to Ludwig, had his attention drawn by France's shouting. Apparently the meeting had now commenced, at least the part that dealt with important matters, and not the customary hour or so of talking, reuniting, and, usually, fighting.

Ludwig tried to pay attention to France as he talked about his government and the reformists and traditionalists- France was their neighbor and a respectable power that shouldn't be ignored. However, beside him, Italy kept fidgeting.

Finally, when the blond man Ludwig had seen previously started yelling at France and a fight ensued (most of the nations ignoring it or placing bets, as it seemed like an ordinary occurrence) Italy whispered to Ludwig, "Let's go find fratello!"

"Now?" Ludwig whispered back, not exactly sure why as no one was paying them any attention. "We have to pay attention to the meeting; who says your brother isn't?"

"But this is boring…" Italy protested. "I wish I had some pasta…ve…"

"We might have to present too-" as soon as Ludwig said that, he realized just what he was saying. _Would _they have to present? But what would they say? The meeting mainly seemed to be about 'discussing issues' or, in France's case, complaining. Ludwig comforted himself with the thought that Prussia would handle it, before realizing that that was not a source of comfort, but more of a reason to panic.

Italy seemed unaware of Ludwig's inner turmoil beside him, but, just as it had with Hungary, just the thought of Prussia seemed to activate some sort of association with him, because Italy said to Ludwig, "Isn't that your brother?"

Ludwig turned to see where Italy was indicating and saw that he was right- Prussia was pushing open the door that they had used to enter when they'd first arrived, and the dark-haired man from before was following him, with Hungary nowhere to be found.

"I want to go meet him! He doesn't look like you…" Italy looked at Ludwig thoughtfully, almost uncomfortably so when he said that, but then continued on, "But maybe he's as nice as you!"

As Ludwig followed Italy he couldn't find the words to say he and Prussia weren't _biological _brothers (he wasn't even sure if that was possible with nations; Italy and his brother probably were, as they shared a country, but that wasn't even taking into consideration their parents; anatomically, countries were too confusing for Ludwig) or to ask what he meant by 'nice' considering that they'd only known each other for fifteen minutes at best.

Only when Italy pushed open the door- and Ludwig was very uncomfortable in leaving the meeting, even while no one seemed to care and some looked like they wanted to leave themselves- did he wonder why Prussia was leaving in the first place, and why the other man was following him.

At the last second, he pulled Italy behind one of the arcing columns before either person noticed them.

"Ludwig, what was that for?" Italy asked, looking up at him.

Tumultuous emotions swirled around Ludwig when Italy called him that, even though he didn't know why. For some reason he felt the need to hammer into Italy that even while Prussia always called him Ludwig, or West, he was still a nation, Germany, not the person that Italy wanted him thought him to be. Even while thinking that, he said rather harshly and admittedly without thinking, "It's Germany."

Seeing Italy's face fall was enough to make Ludwig regret his words. "I mean…I'd rather you call me Germany, but…oh, just call me whatever you like…" Italy perked up a bit, but Ludwig continued, "But it seems like Prussia and…"

"Mr. Austria." Italy supplied in regards to the darker haired man.

"Austria, I suppose, are talking, so I think it's best we not interrupt them." The name, Austria, was another Prussia had mentioned to Ludwig several times, although it brought back another flash of familiarity that quickly faded.

The two had actually been talking the whole time Italy and Germany had been, loudly enough that the two's voices had been drowned out, although Prussia and Austria probably wouldn't have noticed anyway.

"Right…" Italy replied. "I wonder what they're talking about, anyway?" He leaned across Ludwig to peek out slightly from behind the column, and even though Ludwig was going to reprimand him, his curiosity got the better of him, as Prussia had worn, and was wearing, an unusually serious look on his face.

"I've already told you what I know." Prussia was saying in an oddly sulky tone.

Austria looked annoyed at him. "Well then, can you find out more? It's important, you know." His words were sharp.

"No way. There's no more to be found in the first place, and anyway, I'm focusing on what has to be done now, not what once was," Prussia replied, looking annoyed as well.

Ludwig looked over at Italy, wondering if he knew what they were discussing. To his surprise, Italy looked quite different. He was watching the scene attentively, curious and hopeful at the same time.

Ludwig looked back to the two. Austria looked angrier now, and had just finished speaking when Prussia's head suddenly jerked up (as he had been avoiding his eyes until now).

"He's gone, will you listen to me! He's not who you think he is, he's just gone!" Silence fell over the two, Prussia's red eyes fierce while Austria's violet eyes stared at the ground.

Suddenly Italy slipped his hand into Ludwig's. Ludwig felt embarrassed at that, but didn't shake him off for an unfathomable reason that he rejected figuring out in favor of watching the Prussia and Austria.

"…why do you care anyway?" Prussia suddenly spoke up.

Ludwig waited to hear Austria's answer, but none came; then he realized that they had lowered their voices and consequentially neither he nor Italy could hear. He looked back at Italy, who was looking at the ground much like Austria had before.

"You never cared either," and then they could hear the two again. Frankly, the enigmatic nature of the conversation was annoying and frustrating him and seeing as he couldn't see how it had anything to do with him or Italy, he was ready to leave. They couldn't leave without getting spotted though- Ludwig wasn't sure if that would be bad if Prussia or Austria saw them, but he had a feeling of apprehension and didn't want to risk it.

"Ah, you have no idea what I care about." Ludwig could hear Prussia's laugh, but it sounded bizarrely light. There was silence for a few moments before Austria said, in a voice that sounded as strange as Prussia's laugh, "Well, I hope you and your country will continue to do well, Gilbert."

"The same goes for you, Roderich." Prussia's voice was considerably more serious now. Ludwig heard the sound of footsteps, suggesting that they were heading back to the meeting room.

Knowing that they had to do something quickly, Ludwig pulled Italy- who was still grasping his hand, out from behind the column and turned to face Prussia and Austria. He wasn't sure what to say to them, but he'd come up with something.

Both countries appeared surprised to see them. Prussia looked slightly confused as to where they had come from, whereas Austria simply stared at Ludwig.

That annoyed him somewhat. Austria stared at him, Italy stared at him, Hungary stared at him- it wasn't his desire to be noticed, to be wrapped up in some mystery concerning him that everyone else seemed to know about except for him.

However, Austria turned his attention away, composing himself from a shocked look to that of mere surprise. "Ita-chan, Germany-" even without formally introducing himself, Ludwig assumed that Austria knew his name from Prussia- "-what are you doing here?"

"Were you eavesdropping?" Prussia asked, having gotten over his surprise and not showing much emotion at all- a sign to Ludwig he needed to come up with an adequate reason for being there.

"Of course not. I came to get you, Italy came along." Beside him, Italy nodded vigorously, still not releasing Ludwig's hand from his tight grip. "The meeting's almost over, isn't it?"

Prussia shrugged. "It ends sometime around now, but people disperse as they please." He looked back to Austria, and Ludwig wasn't able to decipher the look that passed between them. Then the moment broke and Prussia shrugged. "Whatever. Bye, Specs. See ya, Italy. Come on, Ludwig." He started back to the room, a clear gesture that Ludwig was to follow him.

Ludwig looked back at Italy, who looked back at him. He had the urge to stay and talk with the Italian, to talk about what they had just heard and what it might've meant, since Italy seemed to have some idea, judging by his behavior, or even just to talk, but he knew it was the moment for them to part ways.

Italy released his hand, and Ludwig followed Prussia to the door. As he did, he wondered about all the nations and how their personalities and feelings were so enigmatic and how often they could change, how much lay hidden behind words and eyes. As a nation himself, Ludwig knew he should count himself as well, but the truth was that he didn't feel like he had anything of the sort, caught up in the midst of all the secrets the nations around him had.

He glanced back one more time at Italy, and saw, even while Austria was leaning over a bit to talk to him, the auburn-haired nation was looking back at him. Ludwig had never considered eyes particularly expressive, only in some cases, but in Italy's he could see a plethora of emotions circling around, disappointment and sadness but happiness too, making it downright conflicted.

And just as when Italy had taken his hand, Ludwig couldn't look away until he was in the room and the door had slammed shut.


End file.
